But now, on a sudden, the people of the fort opened a warm fire on the Indians outside, and the bullets began to fly very unpleasantly near our three friends.
Kenton bounded forward, and beheld a confused group of dark figures close under the walls, which he recognized in a moment as Boone and Ruby surrounded by foes.
“Hooroar for ole Kaintuck!” shouted the ranger, throwing all disguise to the winds, and exerting his powerful voice to the utmost. “Go it, cunnel! Give ’em fits! Knock the daylights out of the painted imps! So now!”
As he spoke, he leveled the Indian’s rifle at the thickest of the Indian group, fired, dropped it, leveled his own at a chief who was rushing at him, and shot him dead, just as Boone himself fired for the first time.
Then the two renowned Indian-fighters clubbed their heavy rifles and fought like ten men to drive off the enemy and protect little Ruby.
The girl was crouched on the ground between them, the guns of the whole party were empty, and the conflict between the two muscular borderers and the confused Indians was by no means so unequal as might seem.
Suddenly a clear, commanding voice from the fort shouted:
“White men, drop, quick!”
Like lightning both scouts obeyed, and a rattling volley was fired, the bullets tearing through the Indians, and sending the whole crowd to cover in a moment.